


Sick

by solarsirius



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21949903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarsirius/pseuds/solarsirius
Summary: Younghyun finds the boy who frequents the McDonalds on Main Street pretty cute.To put it simply, two high school boys broken in different ways slowly fall in love.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Park Jaehyung | Jae
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. honey voice.

**Author's Note:**

> "You know, this place isn't exactly the healthiest place to eat," I told him, "yet you come here a lot." 
> 
> "It doesn't matter," he frowned. "I'm going to die soon anyway." 
> 
> I stared at his sunken expression and I could feel my heart breaking. 
> 
> sick | jaehyungparkian 
> 
> written by solarsirius

one.

honey voice.

•

About a week after my sixteenth birthday, my mom appeared at the threshold to my room and I could already tell by the grim expression on her face and the way she was rocking back and forth on her feet that we were going to have either a serious or important discussion. Maybe both.

"Yes, mom?" I asked tentatively. I didn't want to make her upset. She tended to pick up on any negative emotion in my voice—and I always felt negative when she was around.

"We need to talk."

Immediately I felt worried sick to my stomach — but I tried not to let it show. Those words had been haunting my mind for my entire life. Talks that began with those four words never ended well.

I suppressed a flinch when my mother suddenly moved from the doorway, across the room, and sat at the end of my bed. I set my textbooks to the side; I had been studying for finals all day. The following day were my last two. Failing was scary to me, and the main reason as to why was sitting right in front of me.

"What do we need to talk about?" I prayed my words didn't sound disrespectful to her ears.

She didn't comment on my tone, much to my relief. "You're sixteen now, so I think it's about time you get a job." She told me.

A job sounded absolutely fucking _awful_. But I didn't show how I felt, nor tell her. Instead, I nodded in agreement. "Okay. I'll look for places that are hiring."

"Alright," she began to get up. "Get on it as soon as possible, or else your dad and I won't be very happy." I watched as she walked to the still open door.

"I understand." I replied simply. She looked at me, gave a curt nod, and left the room, closing the door behind her with a _click_.

I let out a shaky sigh and suddenly I didn't feel like studying anymore. My mind was too cluttered for that at that moment. I pulled my knees up to my chest and grabbed my phone off my bed stand where I had it sitting on the wooden surface, charging. I unplugged the charger and unlocked my phone, not surprised to see only one text from a groupchat with my two best friends; Kim Wonpil and Yoon Dowoon. Yet, I was kind of the odd one out in the group. The two had known each other since sixth grade. But me? They simply befriended me the previous year because I had no one to be in a group with for a project and the teacher pushed me to be with the two bubbly boys. Since then they treated me with nothing but kindness, and the three of us hung out all of the time, but I could feel that I didn't have the same connection with either of them as they did with each other. And I never would. Because _they_ were best friends. I called them _my_ best friends merely because they were my only friends. But I didn't tell them that.

Wonpil texted a simple 'hi guys!' into the groupchat, and as I held my phone open, I got another notification with Dowoon's response. I quickly went into the message app and silenced our chat before the two could start their usual conversation about the weirdest of things that I had no interest in joining.

Instead my fingers tapped into Safari, where I typed into the search bar,

_Jobs for teenagers in Watsonville, California_

Immediately a few different web pages popped up with job listings and age requirements. As I scrolled, nothing really peaked my interest. Also, most of the jobs on the sites weren't accepting sixteen year olds.

Miraculously, on the second website I found, I spotted an opening at the McDonald's on Main Street, just a fifteen minute or so walk from my house. The position was for a cashier, which didn't seem too bad. And, the youngest age limit was sixteen! I knew that McDonalds could be quite shitty, but at least it was better than the opening I found for some run down family restaurant that was _probably_ run by serial killers.

I decided that the next day I was going to head there after school and apply for the job. Chances are, I would get it.

—

Three weeks passed and it was my second day on the job as a cashier. It was a Friday, and I spent most of the past two weeks training. I was finally deemed good enough to _actually_ work in the public, so there I was. The day before we barely got any customers, but the present day I expected there to be many more, as it was the weekend, and after school and work. 

Like I thought, as I walked into the fast food restaurant to begin my shift, I saw people everywhere, filling up multiple tables and booths. A line of four people were at the register. A boy in his twenties, who introduced himself to me days ago as Doyoung, was working there at the moment. His shift overlapped mine a bit, so we had about an hour or two of time working the cash registers together nearly every day.

I walked behind the counter and gave a small smile to Doyoung, who returned it warmly. "I can help whoever's next." I said to the line of waiting customers.

A boy from my school, probably a senior, walked up. Thankfully, I knew he wasn't one of those jackasses that he appeared to be. He was actually just some random chill dude who I had bumped into in the hallway once before, but he apologized sincerely and went on his way.

I punched in his order and he walked away towards the drinking fountains after I handed him a cup for water. The next in line was an old lady, who seemed very indecisive over what she wanted exactly. But, knowing I had to be polite or I risked the chance of getting fired (and yelled at by some seventy year old woman), I kept my mouth shut and gave her all the time she needed.

The day droned by slowly, with many frustrating customers yet thankfully the majority just being average, okay people. My co-worker from beside me left at five, leaving my last two hours of my shift to be spent alone at the counter.

The steady trail of people gradually dwindled as six pm arrived, with one or two customers coming in maybe every five to ten minutes, usually with some small and easy order. The drive through was much fuller, though—and I was very glad I wouldn't be working that just yet.

Fifteen minutes of no one walking through the doors passed. I moved my visor off to tame my tousled black hair as best as I could. _Ah, I need a haircut._ I made a mental note to ask about that within the next few days. Definitely not anytime _soon_ soon, I needed at least two days to prepare myself to ask my parents for anything. It sucked, but it was normal for me. It was just a fear that had lived with me for nearly my entire life, with no sign of ending in the near future. _At least I'll be eighteen in less than two years. And, with this job, I can begin to pay for things myself._

What caught my attention next wasn't necessarily the door opening, signalling that we had a customer, but what the said customer looked like.

Shockingly bleached blond hair, black roots visible. Thin, round glasses that sat on his nose so delicately. His skin looked soft and smooth, and nearly acne free, aside from a few red spots on his right cheek. His frame was tall, and I could immediately tell that he was quite skinny, but in a way that just _fit_ him somehow.

His dull clothing perfectly reflected the gloominess and somber look present behind those glasses, deep within his dark brown eyes. The boy practically _dripped_ with something negative, and it immediately pulled a frown onto my face.

I could hear his dirtied Converse hitting the grey tiled floor as he walked closer, and I ripped my eyes away from his subtle pout he wore on his face, instead training my eyes on the marble counter in front of me.

"Hello?" His voice was the complete opposite of his appearance — it sounded a bit higher than I expected, with a hint of some warmth. It was... _smooth_ , like...honey?

My eyes flicked upwards to meet his. I pushed a smile upon my face and opened my mouth. "Hi, sorry, I was just zoning out," I apologized. I suddenly began to loathe my voice, as it sounded much too crackly and uneven compared to his smooth and gentle one. "What would you like to order?" I asked him, mentally cringing at how _fake_ and _gross_ I sounded. I wished this beauty of a boy wouldn't have met me here, at a fucking _McDonalds_. Maybe somewhere different, where I didn't have to be in the middle of working.

I lost myself in thought so much that I nearly didn't hear the boy's order. But I caught myself right in time and pushed the buttons for his food, ending our short meeting with me handing him a cup for water at the fountain.

I couldn't tear my eyes off of the boy when he walked away, and I began to notice just how nicely those dark blue jeans with a black belt hugged his hips and long, slender legs, reaching down towards the beaten up black and white shoes on his feet.

Something about this boy intrigued me greatly, not only because of just how obviously _attractive_ he was, but because of his melancholy demeanor and contradicting soft and lovely voice. I wanted to know why so much sadness lied behind those eyes, and I wanted to hear that heavenly voice so much more.

I had to break off my thoughts when another customer walked through the door and up to the counter I stood behind. I snapped out of my trance and continued working, but for the next thirty minutes of my shift, I couldn't help but glance at the beautiful boy sitting alone in the corner of the fast food restaurant, phone in hand and sipping his water from a straw.

I longed to walk over and introduce myself, but I felt reluctant. So I didn't. I watched from the corner of my eye as he got up to throw his trash away and left the McDonalds, his cup of water in hand.

But I forced myself to forget about him when I arrived back home less than an hour later, as that boy would only lead to trouble—and I wanted to avoid any trouble as much as possible.

Because...who knows what my parents would do if they knew I had my eyes set on some boy?


	2. reed.

two.

reed.

•

The next two weeks of working my job as a McDonald's cashier flew by. The mysterious cute boy appeared three more times, but unfortunately for two of them he didn't walk up to my register, instead to Doyoung's. But that one time he _did_ , I still stared much too long than normal and even noticed the dark circles under his eyes and such a distinct _sickly_ look he had. I was worried for a brief moment, but realized he could've just had a cold or something. Nothing much to worry about. He also dressed the same way with every visit to the fast food restaurant; dark jeans, converse shoes, and either a t-shirt or a plain hoodie over his torso. I admitted I paid way too much attention to that boy, and I was starting to think I was becoming creepily obsessed. Well, at least I wasn't stalking him or anything. I just thought he was something interesting to look at whenever he walked into my workplace.

It was a Monday afternoon when I decided to tell Dowoon and Wonpil about the unnamed boy. I didn't know why exactly, but I felt like they should've known.

"Guys," I caught the attention of my two friends, who were previously in their own worlds, the older of the two reading a book while the younger was sticking macaroni onto each prong of his fork. The boys each looked up at me, Wonpil raising an eyebrow as if telling me to go on. "So, uh, don't make fun of me, but..." I hesitated before continuing. "I saw this really... _really_ cute guy at work. And he's like, a frequent now."

Dowoon began to giggle and I sent him a glare, causing him to stop.

"What's his name?" Wonpil asked, placing a bookmark into the page he was at and shutting the book on the table.

"I don't know, I haven't really spoken to him," I told my friends. "Well, besides when he's ordering food."

"You work at McDonalds, and he's a regular?" Dowoon questioned. I nodded, confused at what point the fifteen year old boy was trying to make. "He must be unhealthy as fuck, then. I wouldn't make friends with him."

"Why?"

"He'll probably die of a heart attack one year from now!" Dowoon found his joke _absolutely_ hilarious and broke into boisterous laughter, his body shaking the lunch table. I groaned inwardly, not finding his words amusing at all. Wonpil sent him an annoyed glance, probably thinking the same as me.

"Don't be an asshole," I told the boy. "you're better than that." He was, and it was kind of pissing me off at how shitty he had been recently. I didn't know if it was just hormones or what, but the fifteen year old boy was seriously having issues that were bound to get him into trouble.

Dowoon shrugged, obviously not taking in the seriousness of my words. "Whatever."

I rolled my eyes but didn't say any more.

—

The rest of the day droned on seemingly as slow as possible. And what sucked even more was I couldn't get Dowoon's words out of my head.

Was befriending a mess of a person worth it? I thought so. Either way, I didn't know him. Just because he probably went to Mcdonalds at least once a week didn't make him some unhealthy dude about to have a heart attack. Okay, when put in that way, that did sound exactly like the case. But that didn't mean he didn't deserve some sort of kindness.

Another thing that bothered me was how I was seemingly only interested because of how cute the boy was. I knew I shouldn't have judged people by their looks, and focus on character instead, but who could blame me for being naturally attracted to someone like him? When my eyes liked someone, my heart would too.

'Only' was a stretch, though. I admitted he was very strange in an intriguing way, and I wanted to know what was the matter with him. I wanted to know the reason behind those dark circles, and the melancholic expressions. I wanted to know what secrets lied behind those circle-rimmed glasses, deep inside the boy.

_Fuck, I'm creepy._

If I wasn't in my science class, I totally would've slammed my head into the nearest wall at least ten times. But I stayed calm, deciding to take my anger at myself out on my pink eraser sitting on my desk. My seat partner, Jackson Wang or some shit like that, turned his head to give me a confused expression when I began to stab the poor rubber with my pencil, leaving small grey dots all over it.

"You okay, dude?" Jackson mumbled underneath his breath so only I could hear.

I nodded immediately. "Yup, just peachy." I deadpanned.

"Okay?" Jackson turned back to face our lecturing teacher at the front of the room. Luckily we were in the back, so Mrs. Creek wouldn't notice me brutally murdering my eraser, nor actually care if she _did_ catch me.

My thoughts could destroy me so easily, and letting it all out is how I prevented that. But it was harder to do at home, where I could barely move a muscle without being criticized. That's why I stayed holed up in my room for hours upon hours of the day, not even leaving to get food if I was hungry. I avoided my parents like the plague, but I was forced to sit with them at a painfully tense dinner every night. My parents loved each other dearly, yet fought often, and most of the time it was over me, bills, or some other bullshit I didn't understand.

Sometimes I wished they'd throw me back into the adoption center in South Korea where I came from, but I knew they wouldn't do that. Sometimes I wished they could understand me, being an entirely different race than them, but the couple would always be white people, and completely ignorant to any racial problems I faced.

I wished they'd let me know who my real parents were, even if I was put up for adoption almost immediately after my birth, meaning I meant absolutely nothing to my biological parents. It would still be cool to at least know their names. Or, my real surname that was given to me.

My parents named me Brian after adopting me, but after telling me when I was ten that my Korean name was actually Younghyun, I insisted on the two calling me that instead of the English name. It made me feel more connected to my roots, I guess. I think it fit me more anyway. So, my parents and my two friends interchangeably called me both (though I wished they'd steer more away from 'Brian').

I wished I could visit South Korea some day, but I knew that won't be until I was much older. My parents wouldn't want that now. I felt like they'd want me to stay away from that side of me, even though it was practically _who I was._

I thought they were secretly racist idiots, which was kinda stupid considering the fact they made the conscious decision to adopt an asian child. Who knows, maybe they liked me at first and realized just how fucking annoying I was and regretted ever taking me in.

"Mr. Reed, do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

_Reed_.

My terrible, basic last name given to me when my parents became my legal ones. I despised it, but it was my legal name now, so I couldn't change it. I wished I wasn't adopted.

Mrs. Creek was standing above my desk, her voice low when she repeated her question. I looked around and noticed that no one else was paying attention, everyone too deep into their own work or talking to friends to notice our teacher talking to me. Jackson obviously listened in, though trying to seem like he wasn't.

I noticed my left hand gripping my mechanical pencil much too hard and let it drop to the desk with a _clack_. I brought my other hand up to feel wet tears falling down my flushed face. I didn't even notice how upset I became, and I suddenly felt embarrassed that my teacher was standing above me, seeing me in a state like this.

"Brian, are you okay?"

I nodded quickly, standing up. "Yeah, um, I'll go to the nurse, I, uh, don't feel too great."

I collected my things and threw them into my backpack before heading up to the front of the room, ignoring the stares from my classmates. Mrs. Creek wrote me a pass and soon I was sent on my way through the hallway, towards the main office where the nurse was.

My thoughts continued to race as my footsteps echoed through the empty halls, everything, including myself, halting when I approached the glass walls of the main office, right next to the door that led into the nurse's office.

There he was, standing and talking to the principal with who I assumed to be his mother. _He_ as in golden-voiced boy, dark circles boy. He kept his gaze trained on the ground, and for a moment I even thought he had fallen asleep, but he opened his eyes once more and looked in my direction.

My heart pounding out of my chest, I took a few hurried steps to my left, out of sight from the inside of the office. My hands and legs felt shaky, and my breath was quick and short.

_This is bad,_ I frowned. _Really, really bad._


	3. his name.

three.

his name.

•

Another day at work.

It was Wednesday, and hadn't seen the mysterious boy since Monday at school. I assumed he just moved there, which was why he was in the office that day—probably talking with the staff about his schedule and school rules. Though, most students who joined our school in the middle of the year didn't have meetings like that with anyone, besides maybe the counsellor. It was strange, to say the least.

"Bye, Bri." Doyoung patted my shoulder as he passed me, breaking me from my thoughts. I mumbled a response and watched as my co-worker strode out of the building, heading to his car to leave. He pulled his hood up to block his hair and head from the heavy rain falling from the sky. I spotted a flash of lightning paint itself across the sky, a white zigzag over grey clouds.

I returned my gaze to the register in front of me, no one across from it. That day had been quite slow, much to my pleasure, as busy days were definitely not my preference. I felt my phone buzz from my pocket, and, telling myself it would do no harm to pull my phone out when there was literally nothing else for me to do, I took the device out and looked at my lock screen full of notifications.

**Wonpil**

someone help me with the homework we got in chemistry

**Dowoon**

i'm not in chemistry, i'm not smart like you

**Wonpil**

younghyun?

I opened the messaging app, looking around first to make sure no customer was there needing me to take their order.

**Me**

i'm at work rn. i'll help you later when i get home

**Wonpil**

oof sorry. have you finished the hw already?

**Me**

yeah

**Me**

now i gtg i don't wanna get in trouble lol

**Wonpil**

okay text me when you get off work

**Me**

kk

I slid my phone into my pocket, and right in time. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the door open and two figures walked in. I looked up to see an older woman (I immediately assumed it was his mom) and the mysterious blond boy walk up to the counter, up to _me_.

I tried to stay calm and normal as I typed the pair's orders in, but I couldn't still my madly beating heart. My hand brushed the blond boy's own when I handed him two stacked cups, and I felt my face heat up—but thank God he and his mom walked away almost immediately, so I wouldn't have to face probably the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.

I kept a watch on the pair as they sat down and talked, the boy coming up to get their food five minutes later. I averted my eyes away and focused on the customer in front of me, knowing I could get fired it I slacked off at all while working. I definitely didn't want to do that, it would not only mean I would lose my job and make my parents extremely angry at me, but I would see the cute boy a lot less than I already did.

A fairly new guy who I didn't know began working at the other register a little bit after me. His name was Jake, and even though I was already considered a fairly tall person, he nearly towered over me, and must've been twice the size as well with his built body and bursting muscles. His dark skin was covered in tattoos all over his arms, but I didn't recognize anything in particular from the artwork. He seemed quite intimidating, with his height, tattoos, piercings, and muscles, but after talking to the twenty three year old man, I found out he was one of the nicest people ever—really.

"Hey." he greeted, pulling his visor over his shaved head. He flashed me a smile as he passed and I returned it, saying hello back. "It's kinda slow today, I can see."

I followed his gaze around to the nearly empty restaurant. Besides the mystery boy and his mother, there was an eldery couple in the corner still munching slowly on their food and a family of four getting up to leave. "Yeah. I'll go clear that table, be right back."

It was the time of day where anyone who was free at all could do basic cleaning jobs. Seeing how there was no crowd of people waiting to be served, I decided I'd might as well go and clean up. Maybe the other employees would notice my efforts and say something good about me to our manager. Even if they didn't, at least it gave me a good excuse to stand near the boy and his mom, who were sitting at a table away from the dirty one.

"Stop feeling so guilty. It isn't your fault." His mom spoke in response to something I didn't hear from the other.

It took everything in me not to turn my head towards the woman speaking. I wiped the table slowly, listening for the boy's reply. Lightning flashed. Thunder roared.

"It is. We're poor because of me. We're living in this shithole with Grandma because of me...it's my fault, Mom."

"Jae, don't you _dare_ say that again. It is _not_ your fault."

_Jae_.

His name was Jae.

I didn't hear the rest of their conversation, as I had to leave and get back to work. I took the rag with me and left the mother and son alone. I felt a little bad for invading their privacy, anyway.

I couldn't get their words out of my mind for the rest of my shift, even after the two left the McDonalds, leaving me feeling a bit upset. I couldn't feel that way, though. I knew it wasn't okay for me to be gloomy over some boy who barely knew of my existence leaving me alone. It wasn't like we were friends hanging out or something. I meant nothing to him, and he should've meant nothing to me, too. Yet, he meant something.

What exactly did Jae feel guilty about? I racked my brain coming up with every situation I could think of, but some seemed too extreme to be real. I couldn't guess, anyway, there were too many possibilities, it was impossible to think of and sort through them all. Whatever the situation was, though, must've been bad enough for the tall boy to feel guilty, causing his mom to scold him for feeling that way. _I wish I had a mom who'd do that to me. Instead, I keep my guilty thoughts to myself._

I walked home from the public bus stop slowly, wanting to spend as little time possible at that house with my parents. I went through the next few hours in my head: dinner, homework, shower, bed. It seemed simple and smooth enough. Thank God for my job, it gave me a valid excuse not be home until later in the evening nearly every day—and that meant spending less time with my parents. Even so, my head was filled with negative emotions that grew as I came closer to the house I lived in.

What made my walk home worse, it was still pouring rain outside and I was soaked within seconds. It was worth it though. Anything to stay away as long as possible.

My soggy shoes squished water out onto the wooden floor of my downstairs hallway when I walked into my house, praying my parents wouldn't be mad about the watery mess in the entrance hall. I was about to walk upstairs, but I heard voices from the living room—most importantly, saying my name.

I crept down the hall towards the threshold leading into the room, careful not to press my shoes too hard onto the floor and cause the boards to creak. The living room was dark, but I spotted my parents sitting on the couch and talking under the flickering light of the television. The volume was down low, so I could hear the two clearly—oh how I wished I couldn't.

My mom was smoking. I could smell it and see the cigarette in between her middle and pointer finger, coming up to her lips every so often, and once she pulled it away, she'd blow smoke from her mouth and into the air. "Why do you think that?" she asked, taking a long breath after speaking.

"Because, he's fucking weird, yeah? He talks like a woman. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he started painting his nails, too." It was my dad speaking that time in response. He was laughing. "That boy's a fag. I just know it."

I felt my blood run cold.

"We didn't raise him like that. He's not one." My mom wasn't having it. _Please convince Dad I'm not._

"Mm, I don't know. I'm keeping an eye on him, that's for sure."

My body began to shake.

_Jae_...

I couldn't let my parents find out about him if I ever got the chance to befriend the taller boy. They would destroy anything between us and sever every connection we had...I didn't want that.

_Maybe I'm thinking too far into the future. It'll be alright._

I nodded to myself and stepped away from the living room, deciding I felt much too sick in the stomach to eat dinner that night. In reality, I just couldn't stand to be around my parents. I didn't want them asking me any weird question either, I knew how they were when they got riled up.

I began to cry, feeling weaker and weaker with each teardrop rolling down my cheek. I locked my door and peeled off all of my wet clothes, changing into comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt in exchange, all the while trying to stifle my sobs. My parents couldn't see me cry. They'd just make fun of me more. I didn't want that—what I heard them say was enough.

Collapsing on my bed facing up, I let it all out as quiet as possible, eventually falling asleep with dark thoughts looming over me.

Yet, it was so, _so_ familiar and...normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😿


	4. could be worse.

four.

could be worse.

•

I woke up the next morning with dread pooling in my stomach and my eyes sore. I wanted more than anything to just pull the covers back over my head and sleep forever, but doing that was impossible, and even attempting to do so would land me in trouble I wasn't willing to face under any circumstances.

I hobbled my way out of bed, slowly rising to my feet and heading straight to my closet. I pulled out a random graphic t-shirt and a pair of old, faded jeans, having absolutely no energy to even think of a nicer looking outfit. That morning I was focused on doing the bare minimum—it was all I could really handle, honestly.

My shower felt colder than usual. I stared at my feet and let the water run down on me for much too long, my mind replaying words and images from the night before I just wanted to forget about, but they plagued my mind and wouldn't leave, no matter what I did. My head was a thunderous ocean, twirling around, chaotic as all can be. I just wanted still, serene waters for just a small glimpse of time, a sliver of hope. Instead, the water was wavy and rough, the sky dark and air cold. I didn't see that rare slice of sunshine that meant so much to me.

My shower alarm went off, making me jump slightly. I quickly recovered and turned the metal knobs, the water falling from the nozzle quickly stopping and the centimeter of liquid that was pooled at the bottom disappearing down the drain. Metal scratched angrily against metal as I tore the shower curtain open and reached a hand out towards my phone to silence my alarm. I quickly towelled off and slipped into my clothing as swift as possible, wanting to leave the house as fast as I could to avoid seeing and talking to my parents, because my dad would be getting up any minute to get ready for work and my mom for her morning cigarette before kissing Dad goodbye once he was ready to leave the house.

I was tying my black tennis shoes up onto my feet when I heard the door down the hall open and the sound of footsteps and hushed voices filled the hallway. A pang of nerves hit me like a bullet. I looked away from my door and continued tying my shoes until I was finished, then pulling on a light jacket to shelter myself from the slight morning chill of January in California.

I slung my backpack around my back, slipped my lanyard with my ID on it over my head so it rested around my neck, and exited my room, closing the door quietly behind me. I followed the sound of quiet murmuring coming from downstairs and lightly tread down the steps, coming to a halt at the bottom.

"Brian?"

I heard my name being called from the kitchen, where my parents could just barely see me from around the corner, I assumed. I sighed internally before turning around and heading into the room, my head exploding into billions of different thoughts and worries about what the pair could possibly need me for.

"Yes?" I leaned against the threshold and kept my eyes trained on the tiled floor that hadn't been scrubbed for years. Probably for my entire lifetime, honestly.

"Look at us when we're speaking to you." Came my dad's gruffly voice, a hint of irritation laced in it.

"Sorry." I blinked and hesitantly raised my eyes to look in between the two monsters I called my parents.

"We've decided we want you to start paying for your own school lunch since you've gotten a job. We're tight on money right now and have more useful things to spend it on." My mom told me, her hands splayed across the counter, holding her up, while her piercing, cold eyes stared into my soul.

_Like what, your cigarettes?_ I told her in my head.

My eyes flickered to my dad. _And your beer?_

I nodded. "Alright." It wasn't alright.

Our conversation bothered me and I couldn't let the words leave my mind as I walked to school, having missed the bus after my parents spent way too long being dicks that morning.

It wasn't the fact that I had to pay for my own food, because I understood that, especially if we had money problems. Also, it would teach me some sort of responsibility and good ways to handle my money. It was the fact that they were definitely going to still spend their money on useless things—or purely spend for themselves. Not their child, who they were meant to take care of. Yet, I wasn't surprised, not one bit. The two of them had always been hypocritical, selfish pieces of shit who put themselves over anyone else. It'd be a miracle if they were to think of anyone else's feelings for once. 

The school day went by dreadfully slow. My teacher's voices droned on and on about stuff I definitely wasn't going to remember nor cared about, and Dowoon and Wonpil barely spoke a word to me during lunch, being much too focused on each other to spare even a quick glance at me. I was used to it, though. It was fine.

For the first time I was looking forward to my job almost directly after school. It would give me a better sense of purpose because I was needed there, and my co-workers were cool and didn't treat me like I was someone who could just disappear and be forgotten about. I wasn't alone, with my peers keeping me out. I had a job to do, people around me to socialize with, and money to make. Work also kept me away from my parents, which was a win-win for both me and them—because taking basic care of me was _such_ a chore.

But, the most important thing when it came to my shift at McDonalds was the chance I had that I would see _him_.

The thought of having work as my escape made the last two periods of school go by much faster than earlier. I breezed through all of my homework I had collected throughout the day during study hall and in my last class I was staring at the big hand on the clock mounted at the wall just counting down the minutes until I got to leave.

_Beep_.

Finally.

The sound of chairs scraping across the tiled floor filled the classroom as my classmates and I stood up from our seats and practically ran for the door, ignoring our teacher who called out 'no running!' It wasn't like anyone listened to him, anyway.

Wonpil caught me in the hallway and offered to drive me to work, and, not really wanting to ride the bus, I accepted.

"You seem kinda out of it recently," Wonpil began as he pulled out of his parking spot. The boy had just gotten his lisense a month prior, having put it off much too long and finally his parents forced him to take the test. Of course he passed with flying colors, and of course his wealthy parents bought him a nice, unused car. I would be lying if I said I wasn't jealous, even if it was just a little bit. "you doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good," I lied. Though, in some ways my response was actually the truth. The thought of Jae always excited me for some reason. Maybe it was the whole mystery to him, or maybe I just thought he was cute. I didn't know where my mind was really at anymore. "Just kinda stressed about some family stuff, no biggie." I added when Wonpil gave me a look that totally said 'I don't believe you one bit.'

"Okay. If you ever wanna crash at my place, feel free to."

"Mhm. Thanks."

My friendship with Wonpil was strange. He didn't talk to me much, being too busy with Dowoon, his other friends I didn't know or himself, but at least I knew that deep down he cared about me, even a little bit. I had no idea why he didn't really seem to show it, though. Was it guilt from knowing I was poor, adopted, and depressed driving him to care for me? Because if so, I didn't like that at all. I didn't want his friendship only there because he pitied me. I wanted someone to like me for _me_ , not just for the greater good of supporting a classmate.

"Bri?"

I turned my head to look at Wonpil. "Hm?"

"We're here."

I looked out the car's window and realized he was right; we were parked in a parking spot at the McDonalds I worked at. I turned back to the younger boy.

"Thanks. See you later," I opened the car door and closed it after me once I heard Wonpil call out 'bye.'

I watched from the outside of the building's doors as the boy drove away, leaving me alone at work. Honestly, despite the fact he probably didn't really care much about being friends with me, I genuinely enjoyed talking to him, or even just being in his presence. He felt familiar and safe, very unlike the environment I was forced into at work.

I pulled on my apron and visor for the uniform and stood behind the counter, Doyoung at my side. He greeted me with a smile and I suddenly felt a lot better.

Jae came in around five pm, and I couldn't have been more excited, especially because it was during my break so I had nothing to distract me from staring longingly at him to try and figure him out. And admire his beauty.

I watched from an empty booth as Doyoung, who was leaving very soon as it was pretty much the end of his shift, took the taller boy's order. Jae sat down a few seats away from me and pulled out his phone. My heart began to pound faster as an idea came across me; _what if I sit down and talk to him?_

_No_ , I told myself. _You'll only make a fool of yourself. He probably doesn't even want to talk to anyone anyway, especially not to a complete stranger._

I took little peeks at him every once in a while as he got up to get his food and sat back down to eat. I wondered how he had the money to go out nearly every day. _He probably has a job, too_. Unless he was too young to have a job, which was unlikely since he looked like he was definitely my age or older, especially judging by his height.

Ten minutes must've passed, and I became much more nervous. He would be leaving soon, and I still wanted to talk to him—but I was terrified to.

_Dude, if you want to become friends with him you can't just stare at him afar and expect a miracle to happen,_ I scolded myself. _Talk. To. Him._

Without hesitation, I slid out of the booth and got to my feet. My legs shook with every step, my mind whirled with so many possibilities, but I pushed on and eventually made it to his table. Jae looked up at me and before I could chicken out, I sat down across from him.

"Uhm, hi." I began, a small smile breaking out on my face.

"Hi...?" Jae replied, a perplexed look on his face. I didn't blame him, it was strange for some random person to sit with you.

"So, uh, I noticed we go to the same school and, um," my voice was wavering slightly, and much higher than normal because I was so nervous. _God, he probably thinks I'm weird._ "I don't know, I just, um, wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," he replied with a small nod. "okay."

I felt a bit unwanted, but I decided to continue the conversation anyway. "Well, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm...Brian Kang. But I prefer my...real name, Younghyun. If you call me Brian though it's not that big of a deal, so don't feel too worried."

"Woah," Jae laughed. "Okay. Um, I'm Jae."

"I know," I accidentally replied.

"You...know?" Jae furrowed his brows and I felt my cheeks heat up.

"Oh, um, I overheard that lady who was with you here once a little while ago calling you that..." I explained. "I promise I'm not creepy, I was just cleaning tables nearby."

"I don't think you're creepy," Jae smiled. "I think you're nice."

My blush deepened and I suddenly wanted to run away so he wouldn't have to see me so unnecessarily flustered over the simplest of compliments.

"Thanks." I said, smiling back. "So...are you new to our school?" I knew he was, but I just wanted to hear him talk more and maybe elaborate on where he even came from.

"Yeah," he said. "I just moved here. I used to live in Canada, actually," I nodded at his words. "We had to move in with my grandma who lives here because...um...just money reasons, I guess."

"Ah," I immediately understood, not being totally well off myself. "I get it. I'm not exactly wealthy either. It's a struggle but I least try to be thankful for what I have, you know? It could be worse."

Jae nodded, a sudden vacant look to his face. "It could be..."

A few moments of silence passed between us and I felt my phone begin to buzz, alarming me that my break was over. "Ah, shit. Sorry, I gotta get back to work. It was really nice talking to you."

"You too. I'll...see you around?" Jae replied, looking up at me once I stood up.

"Yeah. See you."

— — —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMFAOOO there’s so many chapters done i just completely forgot to post them on here ........ 🥸 i will be posting more i promise


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